Voices in the Sky
by PestoMonkey
Summary: What ever happened to Morrigan? Short story written for a Dragon Age/Skyrim crossover contest on dA. Follows the main storyline endings for both Skyrim and Dragon Age: Origins.


**Voices in the Sky**

**_An Elder Scrolls:Skyrim/Dragon Age:Origins Crossover_  
**

* * *

"Open your eyes."

Strong hands lifted her upright, a sturdy arm shifting behind her to hold her in a sitting position. She felt a cup being placed to her lips and turned her head at the smell, her stomach churning. She struggled and tried to sink back into the bed. It was warm and soft, she didn't want to wake up. She wanted to sleep. So tired. She grumbled in response and tried to wave the hands away but her arms felt like they were made of lead.

"Here. Open your eyes, you can do it. Drink this. You need nourishment. Your baby needs nourishment."

Her baby. She breathed in sharply and her eyes flew open. Adrenaline shot through her and she sat up, scrambling away from the voice and wrapping her arms around her midsection protectively.

"Stay away from my baby," she bit out, casting blazing golden eyes up at the tall, leather-armored figure standing beside her bed.

"Calm down, I mean you no harm. It's simply hot chicken broth. You need to eat."

The aroma of the broth reached her nose again and she felt like she might retch.

"Ugh, no. Not that. The smell is atrocious." She gagged and dry heaved.

The man nodded and turned away briefly. She saw a hooded, grey-bearded figure take away the noxious substance and hand the man a different one.

"Try this. It will settle your stomach," he said gently. She stared at him defiantly. He was tall and lean, with bronze-tinted skin and clear, intelligent green eyes beneath a scruffy head of curly brown hair. His brow was creased with apparent concern. Concern for her?

She finally concluded that he didn't seem the least bit threatening. She nodded and reached up, her hands shaking violently. The man knelt beside the bed and placed the mug in her hands, holding his own larger ones over hers to help her steady the steaming mug as she put it to her lips. This substance smelled and tasted pleasant at least. As she drank she felt calmer, her stomach ceased its churning, her tremors subsided.

When she finished the tea, she gazed warily at the figures standing around her. Aside from the large leather-clad man, there were several others all in long, heavy robes with grey beards, watching her in silence. A monastery? She looked down at herself and saw she was wearing similar grey woolen clothing. It was warm and comfortable, the small swell of her pregnant belly just visible beneath the fabric at her waist.

Her voice sounded shaky when she spoke. "The Eluvian... it is the last thing I recall before the bitter cold. Where am I?"

The man beside her bed nodded to the others, who all filed out through the door in perfect, eerie silence. He pulled a wooden stool to the side of her bed and sat.

"Morrigan. That is your name, isn't it?" She nodded, blinking for a second in surprise. "Paarthurnax witnessed your arrival at the Throat of the World," he continued. "When you came through the portal you were unprepared for the shock. He called to the Greybeards and they found you and brought you back here. This place is called High Hrothgar. It's the Greybeards' stronghold where they live and train in the ways of the Thu'um."

The man's voice was deep and resonant and as he spoke a strange thing happened. The tiny life inside her belly seemed to come awake. Her baby's excited movements made her a little queasy and she laid her hands over her belly and looked down, shushing it to no avail. Very little of what the man said made any sense, but she had followed Flemeth's instructions exactly. This must be where she belonged, at least until her baby came.

"And who are you?" she asked.

"My name is Remi. I am Dovahkiin." She gasped when the movements picked up in her womb, laying back against her pillows with a dismayed expression. Remi's brow creased.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I don't know. This is the first time he's moved. Something roused him. Dammit, child, calm down. 'Tis a most uncomfortable feeling."

"Let me," Remi said. "I know a thing or two of healing." He reached his large hands out and paused, meeting her eyes before proceeding. She nodded her head emphatically. He seemed to be a gentle man, his expression kind and comforting.

He rested both hands on her stomach, his long, graceful fingers splaying over the rounded swell and nearly covering her entire belly. He bent over and placed his lips near the center and whispered a strange series of syllables. The air in the room seemed to grow thicker around her. The movement in her belly slowed and gradually grew still again. Remi whispered another strange word and looked at her belly, eyes flicking over it.

"He's growing quickly. More quickly than a human child would. What Paarthurnax says is true, isn't it? You carry the soul of a god within your womb. The soul of a Dovah Unslaad, no less, judging from how he responded to my voice."

"How is it that you know so much about me?" she asked.

He rested his elbows on his knees and shook his head, giving her a bright white smile that stood out against his tanned, chiseled features.

"I know very little about you other than what Paarthurnax and the Greybeards have seen fit to share. The Greybeards don't speak, so Arngeir wrote everything down for me when they enlisted my help to care for you. They believed it would be more comfortable for you here if you had someone to talk to until your child comes."

"And you always do as they command? Are you their servant? What is a _Dovahkiin_, anyway?" She had more questions, but was beginning to feel breathless and a little weak. She wondered how long she'd been unconscious.

He laughed, the rich sound surprising her with its volume. "So many questions. We have plenty of time to answer all of them. For now, please eat, your child will thank you."

She nodded and he picked up the now cooled broth. She arched an eyebrow when she watched him chant and a warm glow appeared in his palm, warming the broth for her. He knew magic, and hadn't even hesitated to use it in front of her.

"Impressive," she said, taking the mug from him and sipping the steaming liquid slowly.

"It's just a trick. I'm better with weapons than magic, but I've found I have a lot more time to practice recently. Even spent some time at the College of Winterhold, with the Mages Guild."

Was magic so accepted here that it warranted a guild for mages? If so, she thought she might prefer this place - wherever it was - to living in Ferelden.

"What noble endeavors were you occupied with prior to finding all this extra time?"

He shrugged. "Oh, the usual. Saving the helpless, killing dragons, hunting the World Eater and conquering him to keep him from destroying the universe. Also trying very hard to stay neutral in the midst of a bloody civil war. That was the most difficult part. Don't worry, the war is over, and the universe is safe." He grinned at her.

Morrigan smiled. Remi was beginning to remind her of her old companions from Ferelden. She abruptly felt a pang of longing for them, particularly for the energetic mage who'd led them to victory, a bright young woman she'd come to see as a sister before she left.

She encouraged Remi to tell her more of his story, enjoying the deep rhythm of his voice, listening for what seemed like hours until the steady cadence of his words finally lulled her to sleep.

* * *

Remi sat quietly watching the beautiful dark-haired woman sleep. Wisps of her sleek black hair trailed across her cheek and he reached a hand out, delicately brushing it aside. He expected he'd have new tasks to fulfill after defeating Alduin, but this he had never counted on. He gazed down at her for a moment longer before standing and covering her gently with her blanket, then turning to stoke the fireplace in the corner of the small room.

When the Greybeards had summoned him more than a week ago, he thought she would be just another lost pilgrim they had taken in. When Arngeir wrote down what Paarthurnax had told the Greybeards and made his request, Remi grew curious about this mysterious woman who had fallen through the portal at the Throat of the World two weeks earlier.

She'd been delirious with fever and chills when he was first brought to see her. It wasn't until a few days later that she began to show signs of improvement and began sleeping peacefully through the night. Each day he would stay by her bedside and help care for her. He would watch her sleep, wondering who she was and what had brought her here. It became clear within only a few days that she was with child, which made her situation all the more curious.

When she started showing signs of regaining consciousness, he'd grown anxious. He hiked to the Throat of the World through a blizzard, making himself hoarse with the effort of keeping the bitter winds at bay with the Thu'um to make it to the top of the mountain. He needed to hear the story directly from Paarthurnax. He sensed the old dragon knew far more than he'd shared with the Greybeards, or at least more than Arngeir had bothered to share with him.

"I am surprised it took you this long, Dovahkiin," the huge dragon's voice boomed across the mountaintop.

"Greetings, honored master," Remi spoke using the language of the Dov. "Please tell me of the woman that came through the portal."

"The woman, Morrigan, is carrying a gift, which will be bestowed upon our world in but a few months' time. Your role is paramount in delivery of this gift. He will need a caretaker while he grows. One who understands the ways of the Thu'um and can teach him right from wrong in the world of men."

"What is so special about the child she carries? Why can't his own mother care for him?"

"The child is a great gift for us, for it carries the soul of an eternal one. A god. Prophecies suggest that the child will be Akatosh reborn."

"Do dragons believe in prophecies?"

"We believe in this one. The child's soul is but a piece of Akatosh's that was corrupted in another world. The child's mother risked her life to save him and to cleanse him of corruption. She will need to make a choice to stay or to return to her own world. You must make sure the child stays and grows with us. His mother's world is... inhospitable to our kind."

"Who is the child's father? Can I at least know that much?"

"You must become the child's father. The seed he sprouted from is irrelevant. It is what nourishes him from this moment on that matters most."

Remi had been struck speechless at those words that were now repeating themselves over and over in his mind as he glanced back at the sleeping beauty once more before leaving her room.

He believed his life would be a little easier after confronting and finally vanquishing Alduin. The war had finally ended with the Imperials back in power and Ulfric Stormcloak dead by Remi's own hand. He'd managed to stay in one place for more than a few days for a change, organizing his supplies, replenishing his potions, and polishing his weapons in the basement of his manor in Solitude. He'd even had time to begin composing a song about his final confrontation with the idealistic Nord who'd thrown the entire land into a civil war. He was frankly surprised when his house carl Jordis handed him the letter from the Greybeards requesting his help with something "critical to the balance of power in Tamriel."

He came, as was his duty. But after Paarthurnax's speech he'd been uncertain he could carry out this new task set before him. To raise a child. A god child no less.

Then she had opened her golden eyes and his entire world was turned on its head. He knew he would stay. He would do whatever it took to see her through her ordeal, and to do what was asked of him. This was his calling as much as being a Dovahkiin was, he knew within his soul.

Her strength gradually returned over the next few days. In the mornings when he would bring her breakfast, she would cast him a sardonic look and gripe about the quality of the food, but would eat it all with a voracious appetite nonetheless. After her plate was clean she always looked slightly embarrassed at her display of gluttony, which he found incredibly charming.

"I like a girl with a healthy appetite," he said, a little more suggestively than intended, which caused her to raise an eyebrow.

"Oh? You're sure to be smitten with me before too long, then, as fat as I'm getting."

He wouldn't admit to himself, much less to her, that he was probably already smitten.

When she was strong enough to leave her bed, he walked with her through the cavernous halls of High Hrothgar. She always requested more tales of his adventures, which he usually regaled her with, enjoying answering her questions about the world she'd come to. He loved seeing her smile at some humorous anecdote or other. He especially loved how she would playfully scoff at some of the stories he told of his interactions with Skyrim's citizens.

"Tell me more of your story, Morrigan. My voice needs a rest," he said one afternoon, hoping this time she'd give in.

"'Tis far too boring a tale compared to your exploits. The dragons in my world are neither as fierce, nor prolific as yours."

"I don't need to hear about dragons. Tell me about your life. Did you have any friends? Family?" He really wanted to know who the father of her child was but was afraid asking outright would cause her to withdraw completely. It was tricky enough getting her to talk.

"Yes. As do we all. I had a mother who was a witch. My father I never knew. I had one close friend who I loved, and who was gracious enough to lend me her lover to father a child. But perhaps it was only her very strong survival instinct that made that possible."

He took advantage of the opening to ask, "Who was the father?"

He thought he saw her blush a little before she shook her head and said, "A boor of a man, atrocious sense of humour, and a terrible cook. And for some inexplicable reason they made him King. I still don't understand what she saw in him. Oh, I must sit down, the little imp is turning somersaults again."

They paused by a bench so she could sit.

"Sounds like the perfect candidate to procreate with," he said with a wry laugh.

"Alas, the only choice at the time. Perhaps if you had been a grey warden in Ferelden..." she blushed brightly and trailed off.

Remi cleared his throat and glanced at the floor.

"Perhaps, but my calling was here. As is yours, now. Do you need me to calm him down?"

Her expression had taken on the uncomfortable look that indicated the baby was acting up again, which he seemed to do every day at this hour. As a result of these regular interludes, Remi had brought out his lute and spent a couple evenings composing songs written in the language of the Dov to sing, so that Morrigan could enjoy herself while the child was charmed back into submission.

She nodded, "Yes, but let us return to my room first, shall we? I have a pressing need to empty my bladder. Again."

Her belly grew ever larger, seeming to double in size over a matter of weeks. Paarthurnax had said only a few months until the child came, and Remi grew anxious as the time passed and he became certain from her discomfort and size that she would be giving birth soon. Arngeir seemed more solicitous of her, too, as did the other Greybeards.

"I expect you know how to deliver babies?" she asked while they were walking back from the snowy courtyard on an unseasonably clear, warm day.

"I never have, no. Arngeir will be attending you." He grunted slightly when he felt her grip his hand painfully.

"He had best come quickly, then." Her voice was strained and her face tightened up into a grimace. She stopped walking briefly and emitted several short, steady breaths.

"Is it time?" he asked, every nerve in his body coming alive with adrenaline when she nodded.

Rather than run to find Arngeir, he let out a loud yell in the Thu'um that he knew would reach the man wherever he was in the stronghold. They were still quite a distance from her room and it took some time to make it back, with Morrigan having to pause every few minutes until her contractions subsided. The Greybeards were there, ready with clean linens and steaming hot water.

"Please stay," Morrigan pleaded when he started to walk away. "Don't leave. Will you sing to us?" She refused to release his hand so he simply knelt on the hard floor by the head of her bed and began singing.

* * *

Her son was in her arms, ugly and pink and crying out a piercing little baby wail. He was perfect. He began suckling voraciously when she presented her breast to him. Tears were streaming down her face as she watched. His eyes opened wide and met hers. She gasped at the pure intelligence she saw in them.

"Do you have a name for him?" a deep voice said from beside her.

She shook her head, still enthralled by the gaze of the tiny person she held. Her nipple popped out of the baby's mouth and he cooed up at her, his little tongue making strange, yet somehow familiar syllables.

"By the Divines," Remi said, stooping down beside her. "He's talking."

"Preposterous," Morrigan said, looking down at her baby uncertainly. He cooed up at her again and waved his tiny hand.

"It's true. He says his name is _Auriel_. He also says thank you. And..." he chuckled, "and he's still hungry, can he please have more."

"Oh," she smiled uncertainly. "Why, yes of course."

The sounds of his soft cooing became familiar within days. They would wake her in the middle of the night and she would feed him, sometimes falling into an exhausted sleep again, lying on her side with him at her breast.

She awoke one morning to find Remi's sleeping body slouched on the stool beside her, his tousled head resting on her lap, strong arms wrapped around them both to keep Auriel from falling off the bed. The sight of the large, gentle man sleeping so peacefully caused a tangle of unexpected emotion to writhe within her. She reached out hesitantly and touched his temple, then smoothed his hair back with her fingertips. His thick brown locks were slightly curly and felt good beneath her touch.

She sighed, thinking about what a constant, reliable companion he'd been these last few months, staying by her side during most of her waking hours, tolerating her foul moods, indulging her petty little needs. She truly wished for the second time that he'd been the father of her child, even though they'd never so much as kissed.

She heard a soft coo from beside her and shifted very slightly, trying not to wake the man so that she could attend to the baby.

The next day she awakened to the scent of freshly-hewn wood and found a perfectly crafted cradle next to the bed, filled with comfortable bedding and Auriel sleeping contentedly within.

Everything seemed perfect. Auriel was growing quickly, but not as quickly as he had in her womb. He began reaching for Remi when he entered the room, and the man would cradle him in his arms and speak to him in their own language while he rocked him.

"'Tis disconcerting when you do that. It makes me wonder what you're saying to each other." She heard an unintentional tinge of bitterness in her tone.

Remi raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips. "We're just babbling. He's a baby, he has few desires, and no opinions to speak of, unless his diaper is messy. And right now he's telling me he wants you."

"Is he hungry again?"

Remi shook his head. "No. He just wants your warmth and smell around him. Understandable since you're his mother." He smiled as he gently settled the baby in her arms.

A few days later there was a freshly-built rocking chair in the corner of the room, which she took to sitting in with Auriel when she fed him. When she wasn't feeding him or rocking him to sleep it seemed he only wanted Remi to hold him and talk to him.

The apparent rejection was making her increasingly agitated. Her own child betrayed her every day, but she supposed that was the way of things. Had she not betrayed her own mother once? She began to resent Remi's presence as much as she had appreciated it before.

Increasingly she found thoughts of her old life slipping into her mind in the quiet of the evening. Things had been simpler in Ferelden. She had been freer. She had completed the task Flemeth had set for her. Now perhaps she could find her own path for once. She had never wanted a child. The child she'd had clearly preferred someone else over her now, anyway. Perhaps she should leave.

She made her decision late one night. She dressed in the warm robes she'd been given and packed what few belongings she had. She only had to make it to the Eluvian at the top of the mountain, which couldn't be that far. She tucked Auriel's blankets more snugly around his tiny sleeping form, oblivious to the tears that were streaming over her cheeks. She bent over and kissed him gently on the forehead.

"Goodbye, sweet child."

It was a calm, cold night, which she was grateful for, until she made it to the path up to the peak. She was thrown back the second she attempted to pass into the windy blizzard that obscured the path.

"Blasted damnation!" she cursed. She drew in her power and flung out a cone of fire before her, satisfied when the snowy wind concealing the path cleared for a short distance. It took her nearly two hours and almost depleted her considerable reserves to finally make it to the peak.

She crunched through the thick snow, warily watching the massive, sleeping dragon as she made her way to the Eluvian that rested on a wide stone dais near the edge of the sheer drop. She barely had enough energy for the incantation to activate the portal back to Ferelden.

"Morrigan!" she heard a desperate yell from behind her and stiffened. She'd taken too long getting up here.

"Please stay, Morrigan," Remi yelled over the howl of the wind. She turned to face him, the frozen sheet of her tears crackling on her cheeks when she spoke.

"For whom would I be staying? For Auriel or for you?"

"Stay for us both." His voice was anguished, emphatic, but he didn't look angry. She was baffled by that. If anything he should be furious at her leaving her own child behind so indiscriminately.

She shook her head and glanced at the shimmering picture that was suspended in the Eluvian, ready to swallow her up.

"I do not even know my own child's language. How can I be a mother to him? He is better off with you."

"He speaks your language, Morrigan, or he will soon enough. But he understands you now. And he loves you. We can teach you our language together."

She shook her head. "He was meant to be here where he can be kept safe. This is not my world, Remi. It is yours and his."

"That isn't true. Your world is where you have people you love. Who love you. Please stay."

He'd drawn close enough to her that she could hear his resonant voice easily without him yelling.

"Love is a fool's notion. There is no such thing, not even between a mother and her child," she said, thinking of the bitter relationship with her own mother, but she knew instantly how wrong she was. Why else would she have a broken heart right now?

"You're a fool if you think that," he said, the anger finally showing. He gripped her harshly by the arms and stared down at her, his green eyes flashing. "You know how I know? Because I love you, and it will break my heart if you leave us. Your son needs you. I need you. Please don't go."

His confession tore into her more harshly than her last kiss on her child's forehead had. She stood, stunned, until his mouth covered hers, hot and insistent, telling her wordlessly in no uncertain terms why she must stay. She felt the world tilt as he picked her up and cradled her in his arms. She was staying. It was so simple she knew he'd spoken the truth. She was such a fool. She gazed up at him as the portal flickered closed behind her, the shimmering image of a world that was no longer hers disappearing in the floating snow.

As he carried her back to the path, she caught movement from the corner of her eye and gasped. Remi paused and turned to look up at the massive dragon that had just stood up atop a huge boulder and stretch its wings.

The dragon spoke, in that same melodic cadence of Remi's language, his booming voice filling the sky and vibrating her eardrums. Remi laughed and yelled back, his voice causing the snow to melt for yards in front of him.

"What did he say?" she asked.

"He said he's happy to see you made the right choice. I told him so am I. Let's go get our son and go home now."

"Do you mean to tell me there is more to this world than this icy mountaintop?" she asked with a wry smile.

He laughed and nodded. "It's a wonderful world, and I am all too happy that I'll get to share it with the two of you," he said, grinning broadly at her.


End file.
